Vettori
by Little green
Summary: AC 211 - The Gundams lost AC 195's Eve war, Releena and Treize died and Duke Dermail has taken over the Earth council. But now the time has come for a second war...


Title - Vettori  
Rating - PG13  
Genre - Adventure, angst, AU, romance, a bit of violence in later chapters.  
Notes - This takes place in AC 211, in a future where Treize and Releena died, and the Gundam pilots lost the AC 195's war. Endless waltz never happened and Duke Dermail is now the head of the Romafeller Earth's council (IE the boss o' the world... ;) It will involve all the characters. I know, sad beginning...  
Details - I created Ed's name, because we don't get to know it in the anime (Ed is for Edwidge), but she is NOT an original character. I'd screw up if I didn't let you guess who she is, but I insist that she has a small but significant part in Gundam Wing.   
"Bullauge" means Bull's eye in German. I use this word because I think it's the ugliest word you can find in German! ^.^;  
  
GW is not miiiiiiiiiine!!  
  


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Chapter I**  
  
  
  
Major Barton crushed the glass resting in his hand as he read the short mail appearing on his terminal's screen, not caring about the blood that was slowly trickling down his wrist and falling in small drops on his wooden desk. It had taken sixteen years to that stubborn bastard. But he had done it. It was resumed in a short sentence : "Five Gundams confirmed."  
  
During all those years within OZ, he had never stopped believing in it, and like Milliardo before him, he had chosen to know the enemy. Sixteen years of complete betrayal of his friends and beliefs, waiting for the moment, wishing for the moment. Not even Catherine had understood, but it was for the better. Nothing and nobody should question his loyalty to OZ, if he wanted to learns its secrets.  
  
Now it was time. Time to finish his war.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the distinct clicking sound of his door closing. He sat at his desk, resting his chin on his joined hands, waiting for Colonel Une to speak.  
  
"I have been informed that M.O IV, our most important resource satellite, has been attacked. It seems that a group of rebels tried to set a bomb, entering the security shield with five stolen Serpents." She said leisurely, throwing a few files on his desk.  
  
Trowa merely took a file flipping through it absently.  
  
"Of course, you knew this, and I believe you tried everything to stop it, didn't you?" She went on, her voice getting colder.  
  
"What are you implying, Colonel?" He asked, his eyes piercing hers.  
  
"Major Barton, you are a valuable pilot, and your results have always pleased our General immensely..." She began, he voice suddenly soft.  
  
"Thank you." He chuckled.  
  
"And that's the only reason why I haven't beheaded you yet!" She snarled.  
  
Knew it wouldn't last, Trowa thought. "If your point is that I better find a rebel to throw to the council's wolves, then it is very clear, Colonel." He said calmly.  
  
"72 hours." She hissed, eyeing him with defiant eyes, before leaving his quarters, slamming the door.   
  
Trowa sighed, once he was alone. He had to admit she was beautiful with those azure eyes and golden crown, her short hair didn't alter in any way her femininity, and that tight uniform fitted her curves in a way he couldn't complain about.  
But God, how he hated her. Some officers had already nicknamed her "Lady Une". He smirked at the thought. Oh no, Midii Une was not Lady Une, and he was certain she'll never have the aura of her predecessor. She was nothing, just a worthless spy who had betrayed him to survive, then betrayed the Alliance to be promoted. What a splendid colonel she made. He wished they had known who she really was, but then again, maybe they did, maybe in this new era, it didn't matter that people like her had power and influence...  
  
He smirked at the thought that she would soon learn how useless she actually was. She would face a war again. Chances were that they would loose this battle, but they would scar the world forever, and maybe, as Dorothy had once said, they would cause the colonies so much pain that they would finally learn to avoid military governments. Now, he couldn't wait to see his old Heavyarms again, and he wondered what kind of destructive upgrade his imaginative comrade had come up with.   
  
Now, to join Heero. That shouldn't be very difficult, he thought, and if he felt lazy, he could even wait until the next terrorist attack to pick them up, him and Zechs...  
  
  
"Professor... How old were you on that pic?" Ed asked, holding an old, half-torn picture.   
  
"I don't know, maybe sixteen..." The man growled, engrossed in his meticulous work. Suddenly, his head snapped up, causing his glasses to end up askew on his nose. "Who allowed you to take this? Where did you find it anyway?! Ed, for the last time, you SHALL NOT peer at my private things!!" He exploded, before giving back his full attention to his work.  
  
Ed huffed, accustomed to that nasty temper of his, and threw carelessly the picture on his desk. "It was lying under the metal locker, guess it has been there for a while." Then she flashed him a mischievous smile he didn't notice, "I just asked, because you weren't that bad. I don't know if you already were that... Uh, quick-tempered, at the time, but you were kinda cute!" She giggled.  
  
Her comment was welcomed with a series of unintelligible growls, in a language she had never understood. Not that she really wanted, anyway : She didn't want to hear things that were so rude that he felt the need to express them in another language!  
Maybe that was the most frustrating thing about being his assistant : Whenever she tried to ask questions, he sent her packing. Sure, the Eve wars hadn't exactly been funfairs, but she wasn't asking for the slimy details. A word or two from time to time would have been great, she didn't even know what was his name for heaven's sake!  
  
Yet, she wouldn't have left for an empire. He had been the only one to hire her when she needed it the most. He was family, her heart told her. Her salary was low, she had "bed, board and her laundry done" - Which meant that she lived in a disused warehouse, ate out of tins and washed his shirts -, and he certainly wasn't a charming prince, but she knew there would be no better school for a young engineer like her.   
She had spent the last ten years building five Gundams with him, at that point, she could have washed his underwear if he had asked her.   
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Death was a legend. A living legend, and now, only death could make him more famous, for once he would be dead, he would become a deity.  
  
Through the years, he had earned himself the respect and the mute admiration of all of his colleagues, and nobody doubted he was unique on the mining satellite R-878622, commonly known as "Bullauge" Space prison.   
11 years.  
134 punishments for aggression and insolent behaviour towards the guards.  
27 convictions on charges of murder and malicious wounding, condemned to death 19 times, still waiting for his execution.  
14 escape attempts.  
1183 days in the cooler.  
  
Bullauge was supposed to be the worst high security detention centre in outer space, mostly because in Bullauge, walls were nothing. The real wall was space. Once you were past the Satellite's secured zones, there was nothing to do. Just sit and wait. Wait until the guards catch up with you. And Death did exactly that. Each new escape attempt was an artwork, defying the prison's security systems, the armed guards and the labyrinthine construction beyond belief. And when he was done, space stopped him, and Death just sat until they found him.   
  
Arturo watched him silently, as he washed the floor. Death always sat there, and nobody would have dared encroaching upon his territory.  
He had talked to him a few times. He didn't seem much of a sociable man, but he had actually been nice to him, quite cherry, even. It was something that scared him deeply, the idea that Death could kill someone and remain cheerful. Contrarily to popular belief, he wasn't particularly muscular, or even huge. Arturo found him average in height and weight, much like a big kid with an heart-shaped face and an improbable chestnut braid that no guard had touched, despite the prison's rules and regulations, but there was no ambiguity regarding his build : he had immediately thought that those lean, sharp and rippling muscles were designed to kill. And that was why he never was totally relaxed when Death was around.  
Arturo knew little about his past : Death never got any contact, be it a phone-call or a mail. He had heard that he was a terrorist who had resisted OZ after the Eve wars, that it was why he had been condemned in the first place. But that was pretty much all there was to know about that strange man.   
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Ed had been bouncing up and down for almost an hour when the Professor finally opened the warehouse's back door. So much had happened so quickly! She could hardly digest all that information... First, a visit! Then, a visit to a friend, it seemed. It was already a social event : He actually had friends, and he was really going to leave his damn warehouse! The best part was that the aforesaid friend didn't live here, on Earth, he lived in outer space!   
She stared at her very first shuttle ticket for the umpteenth time, as the Professor limped slowly towards a car. She observed him quietly, unaccustomed to him wearing something else than his usual brown slacks, blue shirt and white coat. He actually looked good in a suit, she thought, but he made no effort, no effort to be nice, no effort to be elegant... She felt a slight tightening in her chest as she thought that he wasn't that old, thirty, thirty-two at the most, but he looked like someone who has never been young, never even tried. Maybe it was because of his handicap, or because of that pale scar on his the bridge of his nose, almost reaching his cheeks*, but not quite. Whatever it was, it made him look old before age.  
  
She brushed the depressing thought aside as they stepped in the car. He didn't say a word as she drove through Budapest's crowded streets, and she kept glancing at him, trying to read some sort of emotion, maybe joy, on his features. Wasn't he going to see a friend?.   
When they finally stopped in the spaceport's dirty parking, she repressed the urge to help him out of the car, and watched him get out slowly, his right leg stubbornly refusing to move. She didn't say a word as she held the door open, knowing that he already felt humiliated that he couldn't drive correctly. She had long ago since learned that he refused any help that might be offered with an equal aggressiveness, and that he actually managed pretty good all by himself.  
  
Her eyes widened twice their size when she discover their shuttle. Were they actually going to take it? She still couldn't believe her luck, and she didn't notice the slight irritation her behaviour caused in the Professor. Well, not until he crushed her foot painfully with his old wooden cane. She liked the object, so British in its old-fashioned design, but right now, she hated it. Ed let out a squeak and hopped on one foot, wincing at her mentor. "What did I do??"  
  
"You talk too much." Came the terse reply.  
  
The incident succeeded in silencing the young woman, and the flight to the X-545951 colony was quite uneventful, except for a few unanswered questions now and then, and a long hour spent playing hangman with molecules names.  
  
It's only when the shuttle landed that she understood that they had strictly nothing to do on a small reprocessing complex like X-545951. As she struggled to catch her bag, the Professor handed her a second ticket. "We have to take a second shuttle. Just follow me and keep quiet."  
  
Ed stared at him in bewilderment, before finally moving to leave the Shuttle. "But, where are we going to sleep? And weren't we suppose to eat or something?" She whined.  
  
"What did I just say?" He asked in voice that held no ambiguity.  
  
"Fine." She huffed, as they walked towards another boarding zone, which was surprisingly almost empty, and very controlled, she noticed.  
  
They sat in a deserted hall, waiting for their second shuttle for almost an hour. Eventually, two soldiers approached and gestured them to get up.   
  
"Are you going to tell me, now?" Ed whispered, glancing at their surroundings from time to time.  
  
"This is a special flight, for Bullauge's visitors." He mumbled, praying that she wouldn't yell out loud or something.  
  
"Oh my... You friend is in jail? I'm sorry..." She squeaked, stumbling on her own bag in distraction. She was surprised when he caught her wrist before she fell, despite his own handicap. Never had she guessed he had such quick reflexes.  
He almost smirked at her naïve remark, but he remained stern, as usual. "No need to be sorry, especially since he'll be free very soon..."  
  
Contrarily to their previous flight, this one was quite sinister. Ed understood quickly that they wouldn't play hangman in this shuttle. She tried to avoid the soldiers eyes, not liking the suspicious look in them. It was strange how the mere knowledge that they were visiting a prisoner made her feel guilty. She only hoped the Professor's friend would be less intimidating than these men. He, on the contrary seemed very calm. True, he was frowning, but that was pretty much the only expression she had ever seen on his face, that and his Ed-that's-it-you-bugged-me-again-and-now-I'm-mad  
  
Her eyes widened like saucers when the Shuttle finally approached the space prison. It looked like hell. She wondered what kind how evil crimes these men had committed, what they had done to deserve to live here. They had probably killed hundred of people. It had to be, for only a beast would have to be locked away in place like this. She stared at the dark rock, floating in the silent space, the small lights here and there, and the incredible security around it. She was no soldier, but she could tell that the lines of black boxes they had passed were undoubtedly space mines, added to the mobile suits, the magnetic shield and the Prison's cannons, it looked like there was no way out, she thought with a little chill.  
  
Bullauge's Space Detention Centre was as comfy as it appeared to be from the outside… Hundred of mens were penned in cells that looked very much like cages. The screams, the smell and the endless shades of grey, - and other colours she didn't want to see- on the walls made Ed dizzy. She still couldn't believe one could live here and keep their sanity. The Professor's friend must have been a very strong man, she thought.  
Being a woman, she was of course, the object of all attentions, be it from the guards who had frisked her, or from the prisoners who did their best to "introduce" themselves to their feminine host, as they walked through a long and dark corridor. Soon she felt lost with all those scary hands trying to touch her, and she let out a squeal of surprise when she felt the Professor pull her away roughly from a particularly bold hand.   
  
"Be a little more careful!" He snapped, shielding her discreetly from their squalid surroundings.  
  
They eventually reached a strange room, contrasting sharply with the rest of the prison. First it was white and clean, which was already quite something, given the general atmosphere of the prison. The she noticed that, except for a table, two chairs and a not so well hidden camera, the room was totally empty. She assessed it was meant to keep extremely dangerous prisoners, since one of the two chairs looked like a dentist's chair, complete with leather straps to cool down the "patient".  
They waited for a few minutes until four guards entered flanking closely a heavily handcuffed prisoner. They pushed him towards the chair roughly, and he only grinned insolently in response. On the guards turned to the professor, glancing interrogatively at the dentist's chair, but he shook his head, gesturing them to leave the room. The oldest guard stared at him oddly as he freed the prisoner warily, sighing. "At your own risk." He said bluntly.   
  
Once they had left, the two men stared at each other silently for a few seconds, before the prisoner talked. "Hey, hey… It's been a while since I got visitors…" He purred with a strange voice.   
  
Ed felt uneasy under his stare, and she backed away slightly when got up and walked toward them. He didn't look scary physically, like the men she had seen earlier; she could even say he was handsome, with gentle features, beautiful violet eyes and something she had never seen on a man, a long chestnut braid following his every move. But it was his expression, unreadable and mysterious that made her feel nervous.  
  
"You know, maybe you should have asked them to put me in that chair… I don't know if you're safe, here…" He went on, still approaching.  
  
At that point, she decided that this man had something evil in him, and she prayed they would get out soon. She noticed the Professor had a hint of a smile on his lips, and this achieved to scare her. Suddenly, the prisoner lunged at him, with an incredible agility and speed. She completely panicked and briefly closed her eyes, certain that he was going to hurt him. Then, something happened she would never have imagined: with an equal efficiency, without moving, he dodged the attacker and swept his legs with his cane in a swift movement.  
  
Ed stared at the man sitting on the floor, terrified, yet admirative and she gaped at them as the braided prisoner got up as fast as he had fallen and burst out laughing, patting the Professor's back affectionately. "Quatre… Quatre… Ever the strategist! Feels good to see you, buddy !"  
  
Then , he turned to the young woman still gaping and trembling slightly. "Now that is something I don't get to see often in here…" He smirked, winking at her.  
  
She backed away instinctively, only to be stopped by a wall. The man, however, ignored her behaviour and turned to the Professor, or "Quatre" as he had called him, chatting casually.  
  
"Who is she?" He asked, pointing a finger to her, "Your wife? Your mistress, maybe…" He added with a sly look.  
"My assistant." Quatre replied coldly, hitting his knee hard with his cane. "But I believe we have more important things to do, right Duo?"  
  
She filed every single information, as the two men sat at the table and her mentor handed the braided man "Duo", a small piece of paper.  
  
"I guess you're here for a good reason, could it be that you have work for me?" Duo grinned.  
  
"Well, if you can repeat your earlier performances, I think a little Christmas gift will be waiting for you under the tree." Quatre replied, making small gestures with his fingers, something she assumed was a code.  
  
"When?" Duo asked.  
  
"I've already contacted 03-"  
  
"03?? Is he still with us?" Duo asked, warily.  
  
"More than ever. Don't interrupt me, please. He will find 01, I still need to get a hold of 05, though. The sooner you celebrate Christmas, the better it is. All you need is what's written here." Quatre muttered, aware of Ed's wide eyes staring at them.  
  
"What about that?" Duo went on, before shoving the paper in his mouth and swallowing it discreetly.  
  
"Let's say it's the ribbon adorning my present." Quatre smiled.  
  
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Chang Wufei was conscientiously grading a pile of papers when he received the mail. He knew he should have opened it, but it he dismissed it, considering that he couldn't be late in his work. How could he teach his little pupils punctuality, if he wasn't punctual himself?  
"Xiao... A messy piece of work, as usual... How am I supposed to read that??" He muttered, using his glasses as a magnifying glass to decipher the blots and scribbling remarks in bright red on the paper.  
  
Mail has ceased interesting him long ago, for he didn't believe anymore in the promise Quatre had made. It had been sixteen years, and he doubted his friend was still alive. So he had settled for an occasional collaboration with the rebels who hid in the mountains. At least, in the small village where he lived, not far from Xichang, he felt useful and -Let's be sincere- he was a sort of local celebrity, being at the same time the teacher of the seventeen children living there, the martial arts teacher and, since the last elections, the mayor. It was actually quite usual to see people having sometimes three or four jobs, in such small communities.  
  
He was interrupted in his work by an insistent, yet weak pounding against his door. He frowned, keeping a paper in one hand and a pen in the other, and went answering. He was surprised to find one of his pupils, the daughter of the village's letter-writer/postman standing in front of him, out of breath, her round cheeks red, holding a wrapped box in her hands.  
"Master Chang-" The little girl breathed.  
  
"What's going on Luan? Did you run?" He asked with a hint of a smile.  
  
"Yes... Ah-There's something for you, it arrived tonight, so I ran to..." She stammered, her eyes shining with satisfaction.  
  
"Thank you. Come on, I'll give you something to drink before you leave." He replied, examining the box.  
  
Once inside his house, the child immediately spotted the papers piles. She stared at it with curiosity, wondering, like all children, what happens with their writings once the teacher is alone at home. She approached a little more, straining her eyes to see something that would be worth repeating to her friends, and when he finally went back with a glass of fresh water, she couldn't help it:  
"Which one is mine?" She asked in a timid voice.  
  
Wufei smiled at her question and pushed the pile away. "I think what you really want to ask is : 'Did I get a good mark?', right?"  
  
The child blushed and bowed her head. "I'm... Sorry."   
  
"I'm not going to tell you, Luan, because it wouldn't be fair to your comrades. But I'm giving the papers back tomorrow, anyway." He explained handing her the glass.  
  
After she was done drinking, he watched her leaving through the window, waiting until he was certain she had entered her house – He didn't like the idea of his little pupils hanging around alone at night in those troubled times - . He, then, took the box she had brought and tore hastily the paper wrapping it, curious. What he found next caught his breath. Inside was a simple box, where someone had written "I knew you wouldn't check your mail anyway. " He opened it feverishly, trying to remaining cool despite the long forgotten hopes resurfacing, and when he finally took its content in its hand, he could have screamed his excitation and his renewed revenge thirst. Inside was a self-detonation device, Nataku's self-detonation device. And he remarked immediately that it wasn't the original.   
  
It was different and it was brand new.  
  
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Duo smirked as he ran through the corridors. Fifteenth escape attempt, except that, this time, things just might be a little bit different. He knew the guards were just after him, as usual, and in a few seconds, he would reach Bullauge's limits : A spherical magnetic shield with a diameter of two kilometres. He had never reached space before, contenting himself with sitting in front of an airlock until someone would catch him. it was actually possible to steal a spacesuit and throw yourself out, - he was about to do it - The real issue was that, unless you had a mean of protection once you were out there, it took approximately twenty seconds to the station's beam cannons to burn you to a crisp. Needless to say that his old friend had better be here when he would leave the airlock and float in the unwelcoming space.   
  
He felt his chest heave as a red light appeared on the airlock's door, and he started to push the last wall preventing him from being free.   
  
He was out. For the first fucking time in eleven years, he was out.   
  
_17 seconds._  
He wondered vaguely if he was going to die, as he spotted a humongous capsule, a few meters away.  
  
_12 seconds. _  
It was dizzying. He could hear the cannons moving to aim at him, the space mines lines flying towards him in long ribbons, as if performing some graceful ballet.  
  
_9 seconds. _  
The code. He could never have forgotten it. He type feverishly. H-I-L-D-E  
  
_1 second. _  
It was the incredible speed more than the weapon itself that paralysed the officer.   
  
He never knew where the attack had come from. Bullauge's A-17 wing melted in a thick and blinding cloud of fire, before dissolving itself in a shimmering dust in the cold space.  
  
Duo smirked as his whole body became one with old Deathscythe, every single reflex coming back. He wasn't done with them yet, oh no he wasn't...   
  
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Trowa proceeded warily into the strange ruins that stood before him. His Shuttle had been ready quite quickly, and the seventy-two hours Colonel Une had given him would more than enough to win his old Heavyarms over again, but something else bothered him : he knew his men were faithful to him and OZ, however he had noticed looks of surprise when he had announced this sudden "urgent matter", and he feared that one of them might slip involuntarily. Oh well, he would face it when the time came, anyway.  
  
Right now, he was more concerned about finding Quatre. He had expected that the address he had given him would be enough to find the place easily, but what he had before him wasn't exactly an "address".  
He noticed two huge warehouses, quite intact, compared to the collapsed buildings surrounding them, and he decided to head this way. It seemed to be the only place where one could reasonably hide five Gundams, he thought. He pushed slowly a heavy rusted door, his mind cringing at the horrible sound he was producing by doing so. Whoever was in there would hear him coming, for sure.   
He gazed at his surroundings, making out darks form in and there, but none of them reminding him of a mobile suit. Little did he notice the motionless shadow waiting for him.  
  
"You're early. It seems that being an OZ's field officer has its advantages." A calm voice spoke behind him.  
  
Trowa froze. "Shuttle, whenever you want." He replied in a tone that meant to be detached and confident.  
He heard the irregular tapping of a cane against the cemented floor, accompanying Quatre's equally slow and irregular footsteps, until, from the first time in sixteen years, he was facing him again.  
Trowa stared at the stern and tired aquamarine eyes, at the unruly golden locks, and couldn't help but think that he hadn't changed that much. He tried to ignore the way he rested against that damn wooden stick, or the scar he remembered all too well, but his heart refused to forget. He felt his heartbeat quicken and pound violently in his chest, the same way it did when woke up from a nightmare, and, for a brief moment, that ghostly, inhuman scream and the sickening sound of bones cracking resounded in his head.  
The pain and the feelings accumulated during all those years suddenly overwhelmed him, and he extended his arms to hug him, his friend, his brother. "Quatre... Forgi-  
  
"Spare me your prose." The blonde snapped, backing up awkwardly and hitting Trowa's leg with his cane, to keep him at a safe distance. "I consider you an useful ally, and an amazing pilot, but that's all you'll ever be. As long as we'll work together, I'd like you to remember, that we are not and will not be friends." He barked.  
  
His words pierced Trowa like a knife, but he chose to retreat behind his usual cold self. He bowed his head slightly, letting his cinnamon bangs hid half of his face, allowing only an icy emerald eye to stare at his former comrade, efficiently shielding him from any unbidden emotion. "Now that you've set the rules, would you mind showing me your work, Quatre? I hate wasting my time." He said curtly.  
  
The blonde led him through a long corridor that seemed to go underground, Trowa noticed, and they finally reached a second warehouse, where he could make out humongous shapes that erased all his doubts. Quatre lit up one of the high scaffoldings, and made an encompassing gesture, as if to say 'Now suit yourself.'   
  
"The Deathscythe is already in Duo's hands. I guess he'll be here in a few hours, when he will have tasted his liberty and his revenge enough." He added dryly, a hint of disapproval in his tone.  
  
Trowa wanted to remain the soldier he had never ceased to be, but as he gazed at his old friend, lost in sad and happy memories, his resolve wavered. He knew the time to fight had come, and he could feel that those would his last moments of peace in a very long time. He turned to Quatre, his eyes softening, trying to reach him one last time. "If you never forgave me, then why are you giving me such a gift?" He said gently, studying the blonde's tense features.  
  
"Why..." Quatre began, shaking his head. "Why is it that even if I try, I can't hide from you?" He asked, his eyes questioning and reproachful.  
  
"Maybe because you still aren't over me." The green-eyed officer smiled ever so slightly.  
  
"I am." He replied, no trace of anger or frustration in his voice. It sounded like a mere fact.  
  
"Then maybe your old self isn't buried as deep as I thought." Trowa offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice.   
  
"It is." The blonde sighed.  
  
"Why?" Trowa dared. Oh he knew why, he knew all too well, but here went his last chance to reconquer their old bond. No matter how much it hurt, they had to talk about it. He only hoped Quatre would answer, instead of retreating in his shell.  
  
There was a long silence during which their eyes met, speaking more than any words could have, and he decided himself to answer.  
  
"I've been in love thrice in my life Trowa.   
  
Dorothy stabbed me, leaving me to you, who abandoned me to OZ, you... You who..." Quatre murmured angrily, his voice trailing off as he spoke.  
  
Trowa clenched his teeth at the realization that, after sixteen years, his comrade still couldn't put words on what had happened to him on Barge. He fought his own memories, knowing they were nothing compared to his, and urged him to go on. "What about the third time?" He questioned, his voice soft and almost shy, like it used to be when they were both still young boys.  
  
A faint smiled danced on the former pilot's lips at Trowa's question. "I have served my time, and I learned to be careful..." He said quietly, feeling slightly nostalgic at the sight of Trowa's open, curious features. Then a comical pout crossed lit up his face, "Platonic, non-egalitarian, virtually incestuous, professional and non-involving relationship. Honestly, if I manage to get hurt, this time..." He huffed, as he finally moved to activate the Heavyarms.  
  
Trowa stifled a chuckle at his description, not wanting to break the precious bond between them that he had managed to dust. Moreover, now it was time to pay a visit to his beloved Colonel. He would have other occasions to talk with Quatre, he could feel it, a tiny door had opened in that long neglected spaceheart of his...  
  
He unbuttoned his uniform jacket, throwing it carelessly on the floor, and leaped with a feline grace on the sitting Mobile suit's legs, until he reached the cockpit. He looked down at Quatre, who was checking his terminals for any errors. "So, you're just going to take you toy and disappear, huh?" He mumbled.  
  
"I need it, I have-" Trowa began.  
  
"Someone to kill?" The blonde yelled, the machine's noise covering his voice.  
  
Trowa didn't reply, and he read clearly in the scientist's eyes that there was no way he could use the warehouse as a self service.  
  
"I don't want to know what it is. I'm giving you twenty-four hours. Past this delay, If you're not back with that Gundam, I'll consider you a traitor. Have fun." He stated, on the vidcom, this time, for Trowa had already shut the hatch.   
  
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Her soft purrs of contentment had lulled him to sleep, and he realized that four hours had passed already, when he finally cracked an eye open. She was still sleeping, and, had he been fool enough to listen to his body, he would have dismissed his duties and snuggled against her for an eternity or two. He let out a groan of frustration and sat up in bed, gathering the strength to get up. He found it was as difficult as usual, since his hand kept grazing the silky skin of a creamy hip, as if of its own volition. His heart swelled with feelings he knew too well, as he rose and his naked form towered over her relaxed body.  
  
Lucrezia...   
  
He had promised so many times... But he knew it was true. One day, he would give her a child.  
  
He dressed quickly, struggling briefly with the tangles their lovemaking usually inflicted on his hair, leaned against the cool window, gazing at the infinite space, thinking about her. How long had it been? Fifteen, sixteen years already? He was amazed at her faith. Never had she doubted him once, never had she questioned their cause. He often regretted that all he had to offer to her was a ghost life, hiding from OZ, fighting and travelling from colony to colony, but he knew, deep inside, that it could only make sense with her. He would never have fought without her.  
  
"Colonel Zechs! Colonel Zechs! We've intercepted a transmission from an OZ's detention centre, I really think you should listen to this!!"  
  
Zechs opened his eyes and turned slowly to face the panicked man who had just burst through his door. He almost smiled at the fact that his men still respected his rank, despite the fact that he hadn't worn an uniform since the Eve wars. However, he rapidly brushed the thought aside as he glanced at the young intruder's eyes : there was fear, and undoubtedly excitation in those warm brown orbs, and his mind screamed to him that whatever it was, it would be worth it.  
  
He quickly followed the bouncing young man on the small ship's main desk, where everybody was massed around a small terminal, listening over and over to the short communication. He approached silently, gesturing to the men to leave him alone, and pushed a flat key, straining his ears.  
At first, he couldn't understand what it was. It seemed to be a battle, the sound was awful, and various explosion sounds resounded, along with shrill noises that might be screams, but he couldn't tell. Then a voice.  
  
"B... Bullauge's Conveyors Check point... Damaged... 71%... God... I... It's a Gundam!"   
  
His eyes widened twice their size as he listened to the officer's dying voice, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Duo...   
  
"Contact 01 and check OZ's transmissions, I want to know what's going on!" Zechs ordered feverishly.  
  
"It seems that things are moving fast… Officer Barton seemed to have disappeared, Colonel Une now considers him a deserter and some officers have started a mutiny. Colonel Zechs… I think this is going to become History…" A wide-eyed engineer said hastily, reading the information as it poured from OZ's systems.  
  
"Indeed…" Zechs frowned.  
  
That was the moment that a very sleepy Noin chose to enter the room, a strange glint in her eyes.  
  
"Zechs… I think we have a mail." She whispered.  
  
"Put it on the screen.", he mumbled, still watching the various and confused statements that circulated in OZ's bases.  
  
"No. It's personal." She retorted in a confident voice.   
  
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Quatre didn't even bother to turn when he heard heavy steps in the underground passage that linked the two warehouses and lead to a deserted plain, far from the city. He merely huffed, thinking that it was a blessing he had thought to this little trick when he had started to use the warehouse : He could easily imagine Duo landing in the middle of Budapest, with his usual taste for big "shows".  
  
"It's over." A devilish and tired voice sighed behind him.  
  
"No. It begins." Quatre snapped.  
  
"I know…" Duo smirked, his old thirst for destruction coming back.  
  
"Ed made your bed. Maybe you'll find something edible in the kitchen. Small door on the right, after the beam weapons stock."  
  
"He he… Sounds cosy. Thanks but no thanks! I think I'm gonna have a walk…" The braided man grinned impishly.  
  
"I see."  
  
"By the way… I noticed there's something missing the second warehouse." Duo said, his voice suddenly serious.  
  
"He's back. I allowed him to use Heavyarms to solve a personal matter. He'll be back tomorrow." The blonde replied absently.  
  
"… What if he doesn't come back?"  
  
"He has fourteen hours and fifty-eight minutes left before I activate 03's self-destruction system." He sighed. "Need money?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Fine."   
  
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Duke Dermail sighed deeply as he gaze through the window. Fifty officers were solemnly burning their uniforms, the pieces of fabric slowly creating a golden inferno in the formal garden of his palace. Such a shame. He knew politics moved fast, but there... It had only taken a few hours. Bullauge's massacre and the famous officer Barton's disappearance, quickly assimilated by Colonel Une as a betrayal of OZ; It was all it had taken to a distasteful mutiny to break out in OZ's officers ranks. The eternal drama of the colonies against the rest of the world surfacing again. Distasteful. That was the word. At this rate, the only thing left to expect would be the colonies declaration of independence. He snorted at the thought. Never. He had worked too hard to bring Romafeller the glory it deserved.  
  
And the solution to his problems could just be the officer entering silently his apartments.  
  
"Colonel Une..." He began, sighing deeply as he carefully chose his words, "Romafeller and OZ, together, have brought not only peace in our galaxy, but order. The colonies are under control, and the Earth government has waged a bitter war against all the independence factions, which now allows us to... 'Revitalize', if I can say so, the colonies politics."  
  
Midii only smiled at his lecture, waiting for the real point.   
  
"However... OZ doesn't seem to be the proud and powerful instrument we created anymore.." He went on, his voice slightly nostalgic.  
  
"Does his excellency fear this return of the Gundams?" She asked innocently.  
  
"In OZ's current state, yes, Colonel Une." He mumbled, playing with a golden letter-opener, ignoring the screams of the mutineers resounding in the gardens.  
  
"How could I serve the Romafeller foundation, your excellency?" She asked bluntly, a strange glint in her metallic azure eyes, knowing it was close, so close, her triumph...  
  
"Colonel Une... What do you think of your General?" He purred.  
  
The glint in her eyes became truly evil as she prepared herself to reply. So close... "I am not allowed to question Sir Nichols's competence, your excellency. I can only note that without Mr Treize's spirit, without his boldness, OZ has turned out to be weak."  
  
The pact was made, all he needed was to voice it, now. "And where... Colonel Une, where do you think I can find Treize's spirit?" He asked calmly, a satisfied smile on his lips.  
  
"Excellent question." She murmured, her eyes piercing his.  
  
"Colonel Une. I want the colonies wrapped around my little finger, I want the Gundams destroyed, I want public executions of the rebels. And I want it quick. Do you think it is possible?"  
  
"The 'road to democracy'... Do you ever expect the colonies to trust you?" She laughed softly, an humourless laugh.  
  
"That shall become your problem, General Une..." He smirked.   
  
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Duo tiptoed through the warehouse, reaching a small, modest but clean room with a bed a washbowl and some clean towels. He didn't noticed the shadow behind him.  
  
"Do you even remember her name?" A mocking yet indulgent voice sighed.  
  
"God! You scared me Q! You should stop popping out from nowhere like that… That's a nasty habit, ya know!"  
  
"Do you?"  
  
Duo smiled in the dark, a wistful smile. "Do you have antennas or something? Fine… I think her name was Leah, and she was blonde. But that's pretty much the only things I noticed." He chuckled.  
  
"How romantic."  
  
"You're the one talking?" Duo snorted.  
  
"Try to sleep now. We have a long day ahead…" Quatre grumbled.  
  
"Long. That's the word."   
  
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Heero Yuy was a strong and collected man. But damn his heart had nearly stopped when he had received the mail. And now he was here, waiting in the cold. And he wasn't even sure why he was waiting, actually. Somebody could have set him. The experimented terrorist he was hadn't bothered to check his source, his excitement too overwhelming -Though you wouldn't notice looking at him- . Of course, Sally being Sally, she had followed with an equal enthusiasm, ignoring the risks as well.  
She gave him a small encouraging smile. But he knew better. He couldn't hide the feelings of tenderness he had for her, but it had never been love, he didn't know what it was, actually. All he knew, at that precise moment, was that she was smiling because she was going to see her not-so-little dragon again. Deep inside he was happy for her, but he wondered what he would become, once she would have definitively buried their autistic and almost parental relationship. She had supported him, for all these years, even if he didn't want to admit it. Would he have to become the lonely and empty soul he had been after Relena's death again? Could he?  
  
He frowned slightly as he caught something moving in the dark. One, then two shadows approached slowly the old warehouse. He relaxed slightly as he recognized Zechs and Noin. Following close was Wufei.  
  
"I see you're all here." Zechs chuckled.  
  
"Lovely place..." Sally sighed, tapping her feet to warm herself a little bit. "Why don't we just enter, now?"  
  
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_"Oh my god! It is now official, after the attack of a presumed Gundam on Bullauge's space prison and the important mutiny started in Romafeller's headquarters, General Nichols has been convicted of high treason, tonight at twenty-two thirty by Romafeller's Earth council and will be executed in forty-eight hours. We just learned that his successor, the General Une, has ordered to shot down any mutineer who would resist to OZ's intervention squads!"_  
  
As Heavyarms drifted softly into the cold space, Trowa glared in barely restrained rage at the pathetic journalist commenting the latest news. He hadn't seen it coming. Damn! He had been so stupid, so proud. Now, he regretted bitterly to have underestimated her, but he hated her even more.   
So, Dermail had chosen her to bring the galaxy to heel. He wouldn't give her the time to prove herself worthy of the Duke's trust. He would kill her now...   
  
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Ed stared at the various screens in front of her with a deadly serious expression, praying that, this time, her calculations would be right and the Shuriken test-type would work. She squeezed her hands together unconsciously as equations invaded the screen and the two weapons slowly followed her hypothetical modelling until they melted into one perfect circle. Perfect.  
She let out a squeal of victory and sipped her -now cold- hot chocolate happily, starting to save the simulation. Tomorrow : First test of the Shuriken!  
  
She sighed happily and was about to call it a day, when a light click caught her attention. She would have screamed. But it just stayed stuck in her throat, as she realized that five handguns where currently surrounding her light brown head. She let out a strangled whimper and raised her hands slowly. Suddenly, she heard footsteps. She immediately assessed they weren't the Professor's, she would have recognized his funny walk.   
  
Effectively, Duo appeared, clad only in his boxers, yawning loudly and leaned against the doorframe. "Oi guys... Don't kill the assistant. Quatre needs her to wash some whites..."  
  
His comment was welcomed by a few suspicious stares and only Sally took it for what it was and laughed in earnest, holding out her hand to the terrified chocolate-sipper. "Sorry about that, my name is Sally Po. Nice to meet you...?"  
  
"Ed." She gasped.  
  
"Ed?" Zechs repeated, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  
  
"Just Ed." She nodded.  
  
"Then Ed it is." Lucrezia laughed.  
  
Heero merely glared at her, as if to state immediately that he wasn't to be messed with.  
  
She observed the newcomers warily, as the men scanned the old warehouse and the women hugged Duo like two mother hens. She thought he was lucky to have so many friends, so many people loving him. She was snapped out of her thoughts by the distinctive sound of the Professor's cane hitting the cement floor regularly.  
  
"Just on time." Quatre said, entering the room and smiling slightly at the sight of all his friends gathered.  
  
"We came here because it seems you have something for us." Wufei replied.  
  
They all nodded as Quatre gestured to them to follow him and lead them wordlessly to another warehouse, using an underground corridor. They entered the dark space, where they could only make out huge forms and he turned the lights on, a small smirk of pride lingering on his lips.  
  
Though Heero's face showed no expression, inside he was reeling. Ever since the Zero system incident, he had known that Quatre had a thing for destructive mobile suits, but this was artwork. He let his eyes wander over the cool metallic curves of his dear Zero's wings almost dreamily.  
  
Quatre coughed discreetly to indicate that he was about to give some explanation about his work, and all turned to him with interrogative stares. "Well, as you'll see, Trowa has already helped himself. He'll be back in 10 hours, that lets you the time to explore your new 'base'... I haven't made any radical changes in the Gundam's weaponry, it's simply more powerful. The two essential points are flying and blocking : I added wings on the Altron , the Heavyarms and the Sandrock, they're also lighter and I'm particularly proud to announce that, from this day, a Gundam that falls can get up**!" He explained, his face lightening up for the first time in years.  
  
He went on, ignoring the pilots admirative stares, "I've also worked on the shield system. It's quite the same than OZ's WALL-721 battleship shield, but it's obviously more efficient that the usual magnetic shield used by mobile dolls. Now-"  
  
"Excuse me, but where are the weapons?" Wufei interrupted, on the verge of scolding. His Nataku with wings. What a ridiculous idea!  
  
"Well..." Ed whispered, seizing the occasion to speak, earning herself a vexed and disdainful glare from her mentor.   
  
"We've stored all the weaponry in this room, that we call the toybox." Quatre cut hastily, gesturing to a second room in the warehouse, where various huge weapons, finished and unfinished were hanging on the walls and laying on mechanical rails.  
  
"Damn..." Noin gasped, eyeing a series of beam canons.  
  
Zechs took her hand, barely hiding his surprise too. "I don't doubt that you have everything needed to upgrade the Tallgeese..." He said, his eyes resting on an unfinished beam saber.   
  
Heero gazed at the Gundams in wonder, torn between a thrill of excitation, and the knowledge that blood would have to shed, again, and again. Suddenly, as his eyes fell on the impressive rebuilt Sandrock, something clicked in his mind. "Quatre..."  
  
"What?" Quatre grumbled, hating, as usual, to be interrupted.  
  
"There's something you're not telling us." Heero stated firmly.  
  
Quatre stopped molesting his helpless laptop and turned to Heero, limping slowly to the table where Ed, Wufei and Zechs were sitting. "What is it, now?" He sighed.  
  
Heero Yuy wanted to choose his words, to formulate it in a way that wouldn't hurt his friend, but Heero the Gundam pilot knew that this would be painful anyway, and that the only way to settle it quickly was to accept the harsh reality. "We all know you're infirm. We all know you're never going to pilot a mobile suit again. Who did you choose to pilot Sandrock?" He asked curtly.  
  
There was an astounding silence in the warehouse at Heero's question, Ed choked on her apple and reddened progressively, as she struggled to breath. Quatre hit her back none to gently with his fist, obviously taking the chance to release his rising anger, and stared at Heero with hateful eyes.  
  
"I... Haven't thought about that yet. Maybe I'll consider it in due time." He hissed.  
  
"Quatre, don't mess with us. We need it, and you know that, or else you would never have upgraded it at all!" Duo growled, his voice menacing.  
  
"Unless you have a trained pilot up your sleeve, I suggest you teach Lucrezia how to pilot it." Zechs said quietly.  
  
"I agree with him, Lu will be just fine." Duo huffed, his anger gone.  
  
"That's fine with me." Wufei sighed.   
  
Heero and Sally nodded in approval, and seven pairs of eyes turned to the fuming blonde Arabian with expectant stares.   
Quatre gritted his teeth, his features holding an expression of complete rage and helplessness and started to pace back and forth awkwardly, his hand trembling on his cane. "I see... So you take the decisions, I obey and I repair your toys, right? Forgive me! I forgot I was a millstone around you guys necks!!" He shouted.  
  
"Quatre..." Sally winced, embarrassed.  
  
"You let me talk! Well I decide that Lucrezia is not the kind of pilot my Sandrock requires. End of discussion!" He went on, literally seething.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Professor... But I think we'll need-" Ed began with pleading eyes, understanding his frustration.  
  
"Shut up, Edwidge!! You're not even clever enough to eat an apple! What the hell allows you to think that you are involved in this decision?!" Quatre exploded.  
  
He regretted immediately his words, but his pride forbid him to apologize. He watched her swallow the last bite of her apple and leave the room silently, on the verge of tears.  
  
Noin gave him a reproachful stare and said in a low voice, "When you'll be decided, tell me."  
  
"I am." He replied dryly. "Be there in an hour, I'll give you your first lesson."   
  
Heero's eyes met his as he left the warehouse and he read a hint of guilt the imperturbable soldier's eyes, but he chose to ignore it. Who cared about his dignity, anyway? Certainly not Heero.  
He didn't notice the shadow following him silently in the underground corridor leading to the second warehouse.  
  
"I suppose you're going to find her and apologize." A feminine voice said softly.  
  
Quatre stared at Sally coldly, looking at her as if she had made some inane remark. "I wouldn't apologize even if she was my mother."   
  
  
  
  
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* A wink to the 1984 anime "Albator", who was a great success in France! I always found his scar made him look sexy! ^_^ BTW, after I submitted the first version to Midii, she told me the fic, and the scar thingie made her think to another fic "Anatexis", I went to read it, and I found it really interesting. It's funny we thought about the same thema. Okay, stop me, I'm ranting, here... :)  
  
** Remember that episode where the wing falls, cannot get up and poor Heero is all grumpy? That's why I also like watching Evangelion : the mecha are swifter, really!  
  
Moleman – This is so depressing… Anyway! Pocky stick to the first person who finds who Ed is!  
Read and review, pleez!  
  
  
  
  



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